Another Walk in the Woods
by Kariska
Summary: A collection of one-shots, some serious, some crackfic. Ranging from odd snippets of conversation to bizarre tales of Harry's life in hunting horcruxes, we'll see where the muse takes us. Rated M for language and adult themes. H/various people. Ronmione most of the time, probably. Some one shots will be connected, some will be stand alone.
1. Chapter 1

**AN:** Just feeding my muse and testing the proverbial waters. Maybe y'all will like my writing maybe not. Leave a review if you think it's good or worse than My Immortal.

 **Disclaimer:** Unsurprisingly, I own no part of the Harry Potter world nor make any claim to it. I wish though. I really do.

* * *

Flashes of light dotted the moist, springy earth of the forest. Glimpses of green, vibrant life and the darkness once more.

Thick and heavy, the foliage from the towering trees shaded against the bright countenance of the sky, blue and dotted with clouds. The peacefulness of nature belied the turmoil within. Nature cares not for the struggles and strife of those outside of its purview.

 _The Circle of Life and all that._

A prophecy told and to be fulfilled. Terrific powers of magic and a power that one knew not.

 _I have a wand, two hands and a nose. That's one more thing than he has. A sense of smell maybe?_

Magic faltered.

 _Bollocks._

 _Focus!_

 _Breathe lightly now._

Harry Potter hid inside of a tree. It was something he had not been keen to attempt practical tests with but necessity is the mother of invention.

 _Necessity is a pain in the ass and I'm a rebellious teenager named Improvisation. Invention must have been the favorite child._

Breathing lightly, Harry tightened his grip on his wand, struggling not to move. It's only after you become aware of non-movement that one realizes just how much one moves all the time.

The spell wasn't perfect and would not last for long nor was it meant for humans. It was a storage spell invented by a thief for hasty hiding of stolen goods. There was barely enough room inside the tree to fit a human and the tree would topple with too much movement.

"Goddamn it…he's gone. Probably sent of muli-portkeys and disapparated back again. He covers his tracks damn well; I'll give him that." the muffled voice of a Death Eater filtered to Harry.

"I hate to say it but he gets better every time."

"Don't let the Dark Lord hear you praise him."

"Come off it. The Dark Lord is not an idiot. I'm not going to blindly deny the capabilities of an enemy."

"Still…"

"I said, come off it! If the Dark Lord punishes me for having an opinion and common sense, what the hell are we doing following him?"

 _That's a fair point. He only tortures the idiots. And his enemies. Not a big difference between the two to him._

Harry's face twisted into a grimace as he gently pulled air through a hollow knot in the shell of the tree.

 _Hell, idiocy has been my enemy plenty of times too._

"Cast the high power tracking spell. I'm knackered from covering your ass earlier."

"Shit, I know. He _is_ getting better. More powerful, too."

"The spell, please."

 _Shit._

 _Shit._

 _Shit-fuck-dicks-shit._

 _I didn't feel him cast a tracer._

 _Shit._

…

"I didn't get him."

"What?"

"He broke my wand fingers, remember?"

"Shit."

"Yeah."

 _Safe._

"Guess we search manually?"

 _Or not._

"I wish I didn't have to stoop to such…menial methods but better hard work over facing the Dark Lord's displeasure."

"I already told you, our Lord is not an idiot. We have solid information on his capabilities and current looks. His hair was different; did you notice?"

"I did."

 _Damn it all! I just got used to looking like Draco._

… _Wow. That's not a thought I ever wanted to have._

The spell stuttered once more with the stray thought. It had to be constantly maintained for such a large object. Normally done with runes, but fifteen seconds and adrenaline do not good runes make.

 _Focus!_

"I'm not seeing any tracks, mate."

"Shit. Me either."

"Must you insist on using vulgar language on every mission? I'm surprised to even hear 'damn' out of your mouth when out of the garb."

"I've got a wife and two little girls that are quickly learning every word out of my mouth. Can you imagine what she'd do to me if one of the girls dropped a word? This is my only reprieve, dammit!"

"Shhhh, alright. Sorry, mate, that's tough."

 _Damn. It's always hard being reminded that Death Eaters are people too._

Sweat was beginning to poor in rivulets down Harry's face, his glasses slipping down his face. The sticking charm had long since worn off with the effort of holding the storage spell.

"Shall we go? The Dark Lord will want the information while it is fresh."

A heavy sigh filtered through to Harry.

"Yes, I suppose so. Check our map trackers to be sure we can get back here with a better searching squad."

"Oh, right. Nice thinking."

A moment later, two cracks sounded announcing the disapparition of the two Death Eaters.

About to release his spell, it was only then that Harry Potter realized he had no way of releasing the spell and getting out of the tree at the same time.

The storage spell was designed to be accessed from the outside. An inward collapse would crush him.

Now sweating profusely as the spell became harder to maintain, Harry closed his eyes and sighed regretfully. Hermione always said he acted before he thought more than was good for him.

His stomach growled.

 _Fuck._


	2. Chapter 2

**AN:** More one-shot stuff. Thinking about making this into a series of one-shots from the same universe. Basically, I'm just fleshing out my writing style; seeing what works and what does not. Thank you to everyone from the HP fanfiction subreddit for their constructive criticism, support and suggestions!

As always, this was written in single setting when the whim was upon me. I apologize for any severe errors in "plot" (lol like there's actually a plot here), continuity or any such thing.

 **This chapter turned out mostly crackfic, fair warning.**

Hope you enjoy! Leave a review or a favorite if you actually like my trash.

 **Disclaimer:** I own Harry Potter. Really. I do.

* * *

No More Planning for You, Harry Potter

At the top of the tallest skyscrapers, wind speeds reach an excess of 100 kilometers per hour.

According to one Hermione Granger, "The terminal velocity of the human body is about 192 kilometers per hour, why do you want to know? Harry, what's that look for? Harry, I _know_ that _look_. Harry James Potter, what in Merlin's name are you scheming?!" The last was said with a bit of a shrill shriek, a fact adamantly denied by said Granger.

Harry Potter, with the aid of a mundane spell applied in the most unique manner, was currently free falling at around 210 kilometers per hour from the peak of the Burj Khalifa with a weakly powered _Protego_ spell in front of him.

"This plan is absolutely the most mental thing ever thought up." After this ringing endorsement, the youngest son of Arthur and Molly Weasley grinned in a devious manner completely unbecoming of any self-respecting Gryffindor. His explanation of how one's mindset can sometimes affect the actions of certain spells was in-depth and very informative.

Let it never be said that Ronald Weasley was stupid.

 _To all that is holy, I will never listen to another word he says while smiling like that._

* * *

"I'm an excellent flyer, Hermione, I don't see why you think this will go pear-shaped."

"There is quite a difference between flying on a broom and _jumping off the Burj Khalifa, Harry!"_

A pause.

"All your plans _do_ tend to go pear-shaped, mate, sorry."

* * *

A collection of eavesdropped conversations, spying and rumors spurred them towards this plan and Harry Potter found himself partially regretting his decision to go ahead with it.

Partially.

Despite the healthy dose of fear clenching his heart, the exhilaration of the jump was pretty damn fun.

After eavesdropping on a conversation of two Death Eaters, Hermione had learned there was an affluent pureblood in the Middle East ardently supporting Voldemort's cause. Karam Assaf importing untraceable cursed items of the blackest kind; receiving endorsement from Voldemort for his own coup he had planned in return. This endorsement was given in the (rumored) form of an object of power from Voldemort himself.

Harry promptly decided that this object was a Horcrux and further decided to steal it. Never mind that this decision was made cemented into his brain with a strong dose of Firewhiskey.

* * *

"Honestly, Harry, what did you expect? This manner of debacle is why we all agreed that Ron and I do the strategizing! In fact, it was _your_ idea you don't make plans anymore!"

A pause.

"Er…Hermione, doesn't Harry coming up with that idea kind of ruin the point you're making?

A sigh.

"Yes. Yes, you're right. Still… _Damn it, Harry."_ Hermione cursing was slightly less surprising than her admitting Ron was right about something. Neither happened very often and almost never in the same setting.

* * *

 _Right, this is why I leave the strategies to Hermione and Ron, and I do the fighting._

 _Bollocks, I'm really going fast._

 _Why did they even agree to doing this anyway?_

 _Oh, right. I got them drunk too._

 _That was bloody stupid._

Further discreet inquiries (read: liberal usages of a certain invisibility cloak, memory charms and illegal Legilimency) revealed that he was currently vacationed in the Royal Suite at the Burj Khalifa. If the object was indeed a Horcrux (of that, Harry was convinced it was) the pureblood most likely would not let it leave his possession.

There was no better time to steal it than when he was away from his heavily warded and defended home.

Unfortunately, Karam was consistently guarded by no less than ten hired wands at all time, with thirty in rotation over all. Each had sworn an Unbreakable Vow to his protection until the termination of their employment.

The plan was as follows: Harry would go to the 25th floor and make some noise, as it were. Normally the Statute of Secrecy would complicate matters, but no one bothered with it anymore.

Voldemort had done a _very_ good job of announcing his presence and his abilities to both worlds. His destruction of the Tower of London had been very public and very panic-inducing. The Obliviator Squads were good but not so good as to remove a publically televised event. Videos circulated the world within minutes.

Hermione and Ron would stay on the 27th floor masquerading as newlyweds. Hermione had blushed rather prettily at this suggestion but surprisingly agreed after only a token protestation. That being said, Ron had, not so surprisingly, blushed harder than Hermione when Harry had suggestively mentioned how luxurious the bed and baths were supposed to be.

Harry was slightly stumped that Hermione was almost eager to stay while Ron was the one blushing and hesitating. They had been together for well over two years now.

His comment about pants and who was wearing them was _not_ appreciated by _either_ party.

Harry was to make his way to the Royal Suite and use his Patronus Charm to send portkey coordinate information to the two not-newlyweds. His invisibility cloak would serve to get him past the guards but once the charm was sent, he would have to fight his way out.

The bodyguards were among the best that could be hired, but no one short of Dumbledore or Voldemort could hope to match him anymore. Getting to the top floor would be almost no-contest.

However, different Horcruxes affected him in different ways. He did not want to be debilitated in combat and thus would have to rid himself of the body guards away from the Royal Suite. It had happened once and had cost him two broken bones, a toenail and the Horcrux itself. He still wasn't sure where Voldemort had that one hidden away, now.

Two or three bodyguards would most likely stay with Karam while the others gave chase to Harry. It was standard tactics.

Hermione and Ron would short-distance portkey to the room. There is a reason Apparition is typically used for short distances. Portkeys require a long distance to stabilize in magic and flight before arrival. This process is what throws many wizards off balance when they arrive after travel. If there is not enough time to stabilize, the magical backlash of landing is enough to stun an average wizard with the strength of a standard _Stupefy._

A quickly cast _Protego_ negates the effects but the suddenness of arrival and the strength of the backlash typically prevent any sort of defense.

Hermione and Ron would use this to their advantage and constrain the remaining wizards, Karam and company. After throwing up anti-Apparition wards, they would then vanish one of the windows of the Suite.

Meanwhile, Harry would battle his way up to the roof of the Burj Khalifa, luring the bodyguards along the way and hopefully getting rid of a few.

Brooms were banned in this part of the Middle East after a strange cult of Islamic extremism and wizarding had used them in unique _jihadist_ manners. Furthermore, the magic used to power the brooms was warded against, making them less useful than even a normal broom

There were brooms that you could get a permit for but they only went up to 75 kilometers per hour and you had to get an entirely different permit just to go above 50 kilometers per hour.

Thus, Harry had to reach a speed that would not only allow him to outrun the sight of the bodyguards but also shave time off the mission.

There was no telling how quickly the additional twenty bodyguards out of rotation could be called in.

Thus, to save on time, Harry jumped off the Burj Khalifa and promptly rotated himself to face the earth. He heard the bodyguards shouting behind him and several spells spiraled past him.

Two seconds were spent falling into a much practiced (mostly through trial-error-and-bruises) mindset.

The ground was up.

The enemy's gate was up.

 _Heh._

" _Ascendio!_ " The properties of the spell streamlined his body to the air in ways it could not be naturally. A small surge of power at his feet propelled him faster through the air and he was no longer freefalling.

He was flying without a broom!

 _Well, I'm flying directly towards the ground which is typically the opposite direction one wants to go._

It still counted in Harry Potter's mind.

" _Protego!"_ He purposely cast the spell weakly enough to prevent interferences with his streamlining but just enough to act as a poor-wizard's goggles.

The Royal Suite was swiftly approaching his view, the vanished window sticking out like a wart on a thumb that was attached to a hand without any other fingers. The application of a Notice-Me charm as opposed to a Notice-Me-Not charm would tend to do that.

Ron cast a quick _Arresto Momentum_ and Hermione was right on his heels with a gentle cry of " _Accio_ Harry!"

Harry was summoned right through the open window and onto the bed.

* * *

"That bed was even more luxurious than I dreamed it to be. How was your bed?"

A pause.

"Ron that color of red on your face doesn't suit your hair color."

"Harry, don't be crass!"

"Well?"

"The bed was nice…"

"Hermione. Gross. And that's enough wine. Too much information."

* * *

He hopped up off the bed, breathing somewhat heavily from excitement and immediately frowned.

"I don't sense it."

Hermione's frown joined his. "It's not here?"

Harry cursed and waved his wand about the room, opening drawers, suitcases and bags. "There's got to be something."

Ron laid his hand on his arm. "Mate, there wasn't much of a chance that there was a Horcrux here in the first place. Let's face it, this was a bust."

Harry sighed and lowered his wand. A couple of years ago he might have vainly carried on but he had long since learned the value of Ron's simple wisdom. "Yeah, you're probably right, mate."

Hermione's horrified gasp followed by a strangled sort of yelp gained their immediate attention.

She was holding a pair of Omnioculars that she jerked away from her eyes.

A haunted look filled them and she seemed to shrink in on herself.

Ron was at her side at an instant, rubbing her back worriedly. "Hermione? Hermione, what is it?"

Hermione's hands shook as she handed the Omnioculars to Harry. "There is not enough alcohol on the planet that will allow me to forget I ever saw that."

Harry put the device to his eyes as Ron looked on curiously.

The blood drained from Harry's face and he couldn't get the Omnioculars away from his face fast enough.

" _Gah!"_ Words failed Harry as he scrubbed at his eyes desperately.

Hermione was very near hysterics as she giggled hollowly. "Voldemort gave Karam knowledge. Knowledge is power. Blackmail is knowledge."

Harry sat down heavily on the ground. " _Bloody hell,_ why?" he whined plaintively. "Why did that need to exist?"

Ron's rich lunch was on its way down to the pavement below at this point, having viewed the contents of the Omnioculars.

Ron gazed woodenly about the room and slowly went about re-stunning the stirring bodyguards plus Karam.

He turned to Hermione and Harry.

"We're leaving and going back to Grimmauld Place and we're going to drink ourselves into the deepest of stupors. Then we are never, ever going to speak of this again.

* * *

"Mate, if you ever convince us to do something like that again, I'm going to tell my Mum about it. In detail. You know what I'm talking about."

Freckled hands tossed back a finger of Ogden's Firewhiskey.

"Ron, if I ever even think of doing something like that again, you have my permission to do so."

A lightning bolt scar creased as a glass of ale was swallowed.

"Honestly, boys, I tried to tell you…"

Bushy hair was pushed out of the way as a drink of red wine was consumed.

A broken pair of Omnioculars sat in the corner, twisted and scorched from several _Confringos_ and one useless, but heartfelt _Avada Kedavra._

Apparently, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore _was,_ very much so, a homosexual.

In conversation, the Golden Trio later agreed that the whole ordeal was a piss poor idea and Harry Potter was to never make the plans ever again.

 _ **Ever.**_

* * *

 **AN:** Always fun times with Harry Potter and Co.

Leave a favorite or a review if you liked!

If you didn't…well, you can leave a review too but only if you tell me what you didn't like and how you think I can fix it.

If you want to flame me…go ahead. I laugh in the face of flames! Ha ha ha ha!

Actually…that's probably why I don't have any eyebrows left.

Kariska out.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** I was lying in bed and decided that it would be easier to avoid thinking about life if I was writing. So, I threw this chapter together with chocolate milk, chips and a cold beer.

 **I wasn't sure where this one-shot would go at first but it was colored by the melancholy tinge of my own thoughts. Turned out a little more angsty than I wanted it to but, oh well.**

 **So, in all fairness, I warn you against the angst contained herein. I dunno about y'all but I'm a little bitch for some good angst in my fanfics.**

 **Disclaimer:** I make many claims to owning Harry Potter but that doesn't make it true, does it?

* * *

Many of the worst moments in life can be traced to one instance. Whether it be a poor decision, poor circumstance or even just poor luck.

For Harry Potter, he had at least one of these moments every year. Most a combination of poor decisions and poor luck but more often a combination of all three. There were some moments, however, that made his trials and tribulations well worth it.

* * *

 _A glimpse of red and a strange tasting, yet wholly pleasant, mix of butterbeer and licorice on his lips._

* * *

Even winning quidditch paled in comparison to the triumph of a goal achieved and an enemy defeated.

He would never admit it to anyone other than Ron and perhaps Neville, but the thrills of combat and his quest gave him more enjoyment than most anything else.

Mostly.

He would never admit it to anyone other than himself, but the thrill of being held in the arms of the one he loved gave him more enjoyment than _anything_ else.

Anything.

He would never admit it to anyone, including himself, but the simple thrill of being _loved_ gave him more enjoyment and _purpose_ than anything ever before.

* * *

 _Sweet-nothings whispered through a veil of red hair, delicate fingers massaging his hair._

 _"It's almost embarrassing how much I enjoy this. Almost more than snogging."_

 _The fingers paused as a slight snort sounded just over his ear._

 _"You better be glad you included that 'almost,' Mr. Potter, or we'd be having a serious discussion."_

 _A cheeky grin brightened a sleep-deprived face. "Or it might have meant I needed more practice?"_

 _A similar smile, mischievous and yet sweet, beamed down at him. "Oh? You do just fine, Mr. Potter."_

 _"Hmm…I'll just make sure of that right quick."_

* * *

Harry leaned over a rough-hewn table, vainly struggling to focus on the task in front of him. Reminisces and longing pervaded his thoughts, intent on disrupting his work.

Some days he hardly thought of Ginny he was so busy.

Other days, like today, it was all he could do to not rush to her and throw himself at her.

He rolled his wand absently and gave up the work as a bad job. Harry knew he would get no work done today.

Hermione was out in Knockturn Alley, disguised as a hawking hag and scouting for information. Ron was working on some harebrained idea that a storage spell developed by a thief could be used on humans.

He was supposed to be working on a new and improved version of the Marauder's Map, one that would update and track their immediate surroundings wherever they went.

Hermione and Ron would understand if he took the day off. They normally insisted at least once a day that he take a day off. He had been working non-stop on the OmniMap (He and Ron thought it was a clever name, Hermione merely rolled her eyes.) since he had conceived the idea nearly two and a half months ago.

He wanted to see Ginny.

He needed to see Ginny.

He could not have Ginny.

* * *

 _"It's dangerous, love."_

 _"For the love of— I know that, Harry Potter! I knew what I was getting from the beginning! Are you saying it's not dangerous for you?" Brown eyes glared at him, unshed tears threatened to fall but did not._

 _"Ron, Hermione and I, we've been doing this for years now! It's almost routine! I know you've been through hell, same as us, but not the_ _ **same**_ _hell." Harry ran his hands through his hair and tugged, thoroughly frustrated. He hated arguing with Ginny, it always turned him out of sorts._

 _"And you think my first-year was a walk in the park? That I haven't had my own struggles or that I can't take care of myself?"_

 _"Bloody hell, Ginny, no! I can't take care of you if you go with me!" Harry wasn't shouting, he never shouted at her, ever, but his voice was becoming increasingly frustrated._

 _"You think I'm such a wee baby that I need you to take care of me? I'm_ _ **not**_ _some ickle firstie that you need to babysit, Harry Potter, and I'll hex your bits off if you suggest that again!" Ginny, on the other hand, had no compunction against shouting._

 _Harry almost growled in frustration before sighing and deflating, his frustration seemingly gone._

 _"I know, Gin. I know."_

 _Ginny paused as his shoulders slumped inwards and he caved in on himself. Defeat permeated his very being. This was not the Harry Potter she knew._

 _This was Harry Potter of Privet Drive, defeated by circumstances out of his control._

 _This was Harry Potter in the cupboard._

 _This was Harry Potter dazed after the impact of a frying pan on his head._

 _This was not_ _ **her**_ _Harry Potter._

 _The change was sudden, abrupt and altogether frightening enough to make her anger flee in confusion._

 _"Harry? Love? I'm sorry. Talk to me, luv."_

 _His pained eyes met hers._

 _"It's not that I don't think you can't take care of yourself. I know you can but I won't be able to keep from wanting and trying to protect you! Even when I know you won't need it. I'll need to make hard decisions, ones that I can't have any distractions about." A hint, a ghost of a smile graced Harry's lips._

 _"Not that you make a half-bad distraction."_

 _Ginny's lips twitched. "Harry…"_

 _"I can't take you with me, Gin. I know you don't understand and I'm muddling up my explanation. There's some things I can't tell you. Not yet. You'll learn them either from me or otherwise. But I can't tell you yet."_

 _"I love you, Harry Potter. You come back to me."_

 _Harry's smile became strained before vanishing entirely._

 _"I won't make promises I can't keep."_

 _"Make this one. For me. Even if it's not true."_

 _"All right."_

* * *

It was hard for him, to be searching for Horcruxes without her. He needed her support and her love, and yet could not risk having it. Hermione and Ron had each other and they tried to be discreet, knowing it hurt him.

He did not begrudge them their happiness, not a whit. But it was a twist of the dagger in his heart, seeing them happy and in love while he was cursed with loneliness.

He was a Horcrux and would have to die some day and that day was fast approaching. When he'd parted ways with Ginny and botched his break up with her, they'd already destroyed five of the remaining Horcruxes.

Ron had been badly injured and the Burrow had not been under heavy surveillance yet. They had snuck in and Molly, grim-faced and firm, immediately began caring for him.

After an initially sweet reunion, Harry's bliss at being with Ginny once more had been broken by the abrupt and unwelcome remembrance that he was a Horcrux. He had only just found out two days ago. They had been on the run with Ron in a very bad condition, trying to lose the Death Eaters tailing them. They lost them within the first day but, against their will but at Ron's insistence, used another day to make sure before they were not tailed before going to the Burrow.

* * *

 _"Dumbledore left these memories and instructions for me and told me to wait till we had destroyed at least half of the Horcruxes. I have to view them now or we'll never get another chance!"_

 _Ron rallied his flagging strength and his hastily drawn defense runes flared to life once more._

 _"Then bloody get on with it! I can't hold the door against Malfoy in his own damn house for much longer!"_

 _Hermione frantically cast detection spells on Lucius Malfoy's pensieve, faster than she had ever cast before and yet her wand movements were precise as ever._

 _"Do it, Harry! It's clear! Do it now!"_

 _Harry dumped the wispy strands of magical thought into the pensieve and practically threw his head into it._

 _Hermione immediately joined Ron and began casting shielding spells, laying them one on another and interlacing the compatible ones._

 _"Ron, did you sear_ vald _into the battery source?"_

 _"Yes!" Without taking his eyes off the runic defense matrix he was maintaining, Ron pointed to his left and down at the floor. "It's there and unused! I cast it only as back up, it's not compatible with_ akkeri _or as good as the_ birgja dao _combination."_

 _"Those are all quick and dirty runes, Ron but I'm going to channel the_ vald _source to support my shielding array!" Even in the midst of direst situations, Hermione managed to sound disapproving._

 _"I didn't have much time, luv!"_

 _"Hush and concentrate!"_

* * *

Ginny, on holiday break at the Burrow, assumed that Harry would take her with him after Ron had healed. Oh, how he had wanted to and had even planned on it.

But that was before he had seen the memories from Dumbledore and knew what he was.

He would never be able to make the necessary sacrifice with Ginny close by. He wanted to love her, live out his life with her. The more time he spent with her the more selfish he would become in his longing of her.

And so he told her that he could not be with her. He had responsibilities and commitments.

Unspoken, was his knowledge that he could not let her love him, knowing that he would leave her so soon.

Part of him hoped she hated him for breaking with her and thus move on more quickly.

The larger, more selfish part of him hoped she never moved on.

He wanted her to run her fingers through his hair, gently kiss his brow and smooth at his frown.

He wanted her to hold him. He could never get enough of her being close. Eleven years he had spent deprived of physical affection.

He was more than aware that he required and needed more physical closeness than most his age.

He loved that she was willing to give it. Simple touches on his back, or resting her hand on his knee. Squeezing his shoulder when he was tensing up over a particularly stubborn Arithmancy theorem.

It didn't matter what he wanted, in any case.

The only thing he wanted was her.

She was the only thing he couldn't afford to have.

* * *

 _Harry jerked out of the pensieve before destroying it with an overpowered blasting spell with vindictive hate._

 _"We need to leave now, Ron, Hermione!"_

 _Harry dashed forward and grabbed their shoulders before muttering the portword for the portkey, Ron having temporarily disabled the magical-travel prevention wards._

 _"Harry, no! I'm tapped into—!" Hermione never finished her sentence as the world exploding with pulsing purple energy before fading as they were portkeyed away._

 _They appeared in the middle of a field near London in a copse of trees. The smell of burning flesh filled Harry's nose and he realized it was coming from Ron._

 _The_ vald _rune Hermione had tapped into was unstable and had collapsed when disrupted through the portkey travel._

 _It had exploded from the stress and burnt Ron badly but had sunk into blissful unconsciousness._

 _His condition had distracted Hermione but not enough that she forgot the haunted look Harry had when he had come out of the pensieve._

* * *

Harry opened his trunk and pulled a picture of him and Ginny from it, a bittersweet smile gracing his face as he relaxed onto his bed in the homely tent. It took a while but the tent had eventually begun to feel like a home, sad as that was.

In the picture, he and Ginny were sitting facing the pond behind the Burrow, her head on his shoulders and his leaned back against a tree. His eyes were closed and he did not realize that she had snuck the picture until after the fact.

Her mischievous grin softened as her eyes moved back to him and transformed into something full of love. This was what home was to him. The tent may have felt like a home, but that was what Ginny was to him.

Ginny felt like coming home.

He allowed his eyes to drift close a deep sigh escaping his lips as he slipped into a fitful sleep.

The map could wait another day. He had dreams awaiting him. Dreams of butterbeer and licorice. Butterbeer, licorice and red hair tickling his chin.


End file.
